


Blood

by ellebelle9



Series: Sunspots AU [2]
Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Angst, F/M, Mallory and Michael deal with their dumb emotions, Period Sex, Sunspots sequel one shot that turned into a 4000 word monstrosity, Yeah you read that right, a lot of catharsis about being a woman and stuff, author is tired and should stop writing terrible tags, basically just a smut outlet, gratuitous descriptions of sexy blood, so this happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 19:21:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20935430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellebelle9/pseuds/ellebelle9
Summary: ‘It’s just blood, Mallie.’ His voice haunts her in the room, too dark to barely see him it feels like he is everywhere at once, disembodied. He hooks his fingers into her panties and drags them away from her.The blood separates with a slick sound and she blushes in the dark, instinctively closing her legs.‘Open.’ Michael commands, throwing her underwear carelessly off the side of the bed, sitting back on his heels in only a t-shirt and boxers, sometimes she forgets what a terrifying creature he truly is.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shieroell029](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shieroell029/gifts).

> ** wow so this happened  
******   
** A short sequel to Sunspots, you don't have to read it if you just want some hot millory period sex but there is some angsty discussion of things that happened in the fic you are welcome to gloss over  
**  
** I don't even know what this fic is or how to justify it. Enjoy?  
**  
** gifted to my bae shieroell029 just because you're wonderful x **************

Mallory is in the garden shed when she feels the tell-tale wetness between her legs.

She can’t help groaning out loud in annoyance as she feels the blood saturate her underwear, not quite enough to start running down her leg but with another hot rush it could stain her. She quickly removes her gloves and goes about putting her gardening equipment away, grimacing all the while at the twisting pain in her abdomen.

Mallory falters for a moment in the doorway of the shed, squinting against the glare of the hot afternoon sun, one hand pressed to her stomach and breathing through the next round of sharp stabbing pain that had been plaguing her since morning.

Madison spies her from the steps and gestures crudely at her. Mallory blinks and pushes herself upright, swinging the door closed behind her and making her way over.

‘Did you need a siesta in between all that pottering around?’ Madison asks with her usual snark.

‘Cramps.’ Mallory says, not feeling up to having to speak any more than necessary as she walked off the lingering ache.

‘Oh, girl.’ Madison winced. ‘Are they bad?’

‘Not yet.’ Mallory said dismissively. ‘Would you let Miss Cordelia know I won’t be at dinner, I’m going to go lie down.’

Madison nodded, pressing a hand to Mallory’s forearm and giving it a gentle squeeze in sympathy before turning away. Mallory took another moment to press her hand beneath her waist-cinching belt before climbing the stairs, feeling that dreaded rush of blood start again.

No more than half an hour later, having settled in a hot bath and wrapped in a towel while she brushed her teeth, Mallory heard a soft knocking at her door.

With a lazy gesture, she magically lifted the latch and let Michael slip into her room. He spied her in the bathroom and smiled.

‘Hi,’ Mallory said around her toothbrush.

‘Hey, you weren’t at dinner…’ Michael said, coming to shyly rest against the bathroom doorjamb. ‘I was worried.’

Mallory spat into the sink and rinsed, keeping a careful hold of the towel at the front of her chest.

‘I’m fine.’ She said over the tap. ‘Just not feeling well.’ In what she hoped had been a dismissive line had Michael frowning, though still hesitating to cross the bathroom threshold.

‘Okay.’

She stepped over to him and tilted her head back, asking nicely for the kiss he obediently dropped to her lips. She let him kiss her gently for a moment before the hand that had slipped into her hair began to creep lower towards the top of her towel. He had barely slipped a finger into the front of the knot before Mallory pulled back and crossed the room to her closet. Unperturbed, Michael talks while she dresses, telling her about their latest news over dinner. How Cordelia had been in contact with a few remaining warlocks who had gone rogue in opposition of their former leader’s plans. They share the harmless gossip they pick up about their fellow students, expressing their amusement and exasperation with the first year witches.

‘One nearly set her eyebrows on fire last night, it was the funniest thing! Oh, I shouldn’t laugh…’ Mallory says as she pulls back her duvet and settles into bed with her legs crossed, wearing her most comfortable, least sexy pyjamas. Michael laughs with her, finally falling out of his careful lean on the doorjamb and approaching her bed cautiously, as if after all this time together she might still forbid him to sleep beside her. Which tonight, she was honestly considering given her… affliction.

But the comfort of his weight and warmth beside her in bed was too tempting, she lifted the duvet corner invitingly and let him curl around her. She flared up the candles once, and they both laughed in memory of the unfortunate first year student, before she extinguished them all together and plunged them into darkness.

Glad to be horizontal, Mallory pulled one of Michael’s hands to her stomach and relished the natural warmth he emitted over her aching muscles. His soft breathing by her ear had her falling asleep in no time.

X

The sunlight is weak when Mallory wakes, but it’s not the brightness that stirs her. It’s Michael, in a panic and desperately pressing his hands to her abdomen.

‘You’re bleeding…’ He muttered mindlessly. ‘You’re bleeding, Mallie.’

Natural human terror filled her at his words. For a moment she was back in her garden on that dreadful night, watering her roses with so much of her own blood, Ms Mead’s back to her as she walked away and left her dying. A shudder wracks Mallory’s body and she sees the glaze of the memory in Michael’s eyes as he presses two hands above the place where her mortal wound once was.

But then she feels the blood isn’t coming from her stomach but from between her legs and the terror is replaced with pure mortification, she takes Michael’s hands from her stomach and placates him.

‘It’s okay, Michael.’

‘Mallory, the blood.’ He says, indicating the stain beneath her. Mallory’s whole body creases in shame and she steps carefully out of the bed and rushes to the bathroom.

‘It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine.’ She chants softly, unable to look at him.

She shuts herself away in there, turning the shower on and trying to shed her embarrassment with her bloodstained clothes. Michael doesn’t follow her in, doesn’t knock. A desperate, ugly part of her thinks he must be disgusted with her as he realises. Mallory scrubs at the dried blood on her thighs a little harder.

When she eventually emerges, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, eyeing her warily.

‘Are you alright?’

‘Yes.’ She says, folding her arms protectively.

‘I’m sorry.’ He says, dropping his gaze from her fresh, scrubbed-pink skin to his hands.

‘You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I ruined the bed.’ She tries to joke to lighten the awkward mood. But he doesn’t continue, eyes still fixed on his hands. She sees that they are trembling.

‘For overreacting.’ He says eventually. ‘I felt the blood, and when I looked down and saw…’

Mallory swallows, shifting her weight. They don’t broach this topic much at all, it being such a painful place to venture back to, and such a big secret they keep from the rest of the coven. The house is still quiet at this hour, with only the beginnings of a warm breeze stirring the curtains to disturb them.

‘I still dream about it.’ Michael’s voice becomes raspier. ‘When I found you. I dreamt about it so much afterwards. How I tried to save you.’

There’s not much to say to a confession of that magnitude. Mallory lets the heavy words hover in the air for moments too long.

‘I’m here, Michael. I’m okay.’

He turns away from her fully. From where he sits on the bed with his slumped shoulders he’s just about level with her height. His hair is luminescent in the dawn and she comes closer to touch a hand to the nape of his neck, to will him back to her.

‘I know that it’s different now.’ His voice is shaky but determined, like he is fighting the words out, to make them real by speaking them aloud. ‘That it happened in a different time, a different life. But I still _remember_.’

‘I know.’ Mallory says softly. ‘I do too.’

‘It was so long.’ Mallory gathers him to her and he presses his head to her sternum as they both remember the horrors of the other world. ‘They’ll never know. They’ll _never _know.’

They stay like that until the sun comes up over the window and bathes them in light.


	2. Chapter 2

The next night Michael creeps in late. Mallory is half asleep in her fresh sheet when he curls himself around her, nuzzling the back of her neck.

It had been a rough day emotionally. Not just on top of her messed up hormones, but they’d both needed time to recover from their painful awakening.

And overarching it all, there is the constant ticking of time that counts down until Michael must leave again to rule his underworld. The thought of it brings a whole new kind of ache to her chest and Mallory squirms in his grasp, pressing herself closer.

His sharp inhale stops her, but his thumb sweeps across the shelf of her ribs and his hand dips fractionally lower.

‘No, don’t.’ Mallory says under her breath. Immediately his hand freezes, even though she has it pinned to her abdomen for the heat relief.

‘Are you sure?’ He asks when she pushes herself back into his body, confused herself at the mixed signals her body is sending her. Wanting to slink closer but repelled by the idea of him touching her in her state.

‘It’s not the right time.’ She says, even though the idea of his hand creeping lower and slipping through her blood, the thought of something sinking into her cunt has her aching madly, muscles tightening and shuddering.

The sweeping of his thumb resumes and he huffs a small breath on her neck, punctuating it with a soft kiss.

‘It’s just blood, Mallie.’

_It’s gross_, she finds herself thinking, _why would you want to touch me like this_?

But then she remembers who exactly is in bed with her and the thoughts fizzle out like static. It’s just blood.

As if he can hear the gears ticking in her mind, Michael leans up on an elbow and considers her.

She turns onto her back and looks up at him.

‘We’ll make a mess.’ She confesses to the silhouette of him.

‘Don’t we usually?’ He laughs, nipping a kiss on the round of her shoulder. ‘Do you want me to…?’

Mallory shivers again, her body already answering his question for her.

He waits for her to nod before he begins lifting her nightdress, sliding the soft cotton up her body and easing it over her head. She lets him undress her like a doll, too scared to move in case it brings another rush of blood. It’s inevitable, but she is stuck on a loop about how they’re going to stain her sheets.

‘It’s just blood, Mallie.’ His voice haunts her in the room, too dark to barely see him it feels like he is everywhere at once, disembodied. He hooks his fingers into her panties and drags them away from her.

The blood separates with a slick sound and she blushes in the dark, instinctively closing her legs.

‘Open.’ He commands, throwing her underwear carelessly off the side of the bed, sitting back on his heels in only a t-shirt and boxers, sometimes she forgets what a terrifying creature he truly is. ‘Let me in, Mallie. Open your legs.’

Hesitantly, Mallory obeys him, melting at the tone of his voice, sweet and demanding all at once.

It’s seems her body wants to answer him too, and she whimpers as she feels the blood pour lushly out of her, encouraged by the flow of her arousal. She feels it puddle beneath her and she wants to die when Michael inhales deeply and she knows he can smell her.

‘We don’t have to, if you don’t want to.’ Mallory trips over the words in the rush to get them out. ‘If it’s too… gross. I understand.’

‘Why do you think it’s gross?’ He asks, already tracing her overly wet cunt with one finger, causing her to flinch back just from the light pressure.

‘It’s… um…’ It’s hard enough to think when he’s touching her, but for her life Mallory can’t think of a reason. She searches the roof and tries to command her body to _chill the fuck out_ when he slips a finger into her so easily. She doesn’t think she’s ever been this wet before. ‘I don’t know…’ she answers, half-stupid already.

Gently, like he’s trying to calm her from the inside out he touches her, letting her get used to the pressure of having him inside, coating his finger in her blood and pressing gentle kisses to her knees. It works, as she feels her muscles begin to loosen and the twisting in her abdomen begins to lessen as he works hard to relax her.

‘What is it like?’ He asks, ever the student. Mallory nods frantically in the dark despite his lack of vision, suddenly wishing for him to be even closer. She leans up slowly and takes a hold of his t-shirt, dragging him over her and clenching at the change of angle as he keeps his pace steady within her.

‘It’s good.’ She gasps, remembering to answer his question. Content now with his warmth over her, she lets him continue his task uninterrupted.

‘I’m not hurting you?’ He asks worriedly when she tightens her fingers in the collar of his shirt, probably pulling ruinously at the fabric but needing to redirect her tension somewhere.

‘No… you’re making me better.’

He seems to pride over that, redoubling his efforts and introducing his thumb to her clit, letting it slip back and forth. Mallory tries to ignore the obscene noise his hand in her is making, wincing when another rush of blood comes and drenches his hand and the bed.

‘I’m sorry.’ She says reflexively.

‘No, you’re not.’ Michael says with a soft huffing laugh. ‘It’s just blood.’ He repeats, coaxing her.

‘It’s just blood.’ She says, smiling up at him and feeling the anxiety in her chest finally begin to dissolve. Tight muscles in her ribs finally loosening and letting air in and she feels like she’s floating. Between her legs she is sticky and wet with blood but Michael is tending to the ache within her and she feels looked after, cared for, _loved_.

Carefully rocking his fingers within her and keeping the steady, working pace Mallory so desperately needs, when she comes it’s a slow, gradual thing. Built up and pulsing over her, rising and rushing like the tide. It’s hard to tell where it begins and ends. Awareness creeps back slowly when she realises Michael is pushing his other hand to himself to quell his own ache.

Sometimes she is a selfish being, and chides herself for being neglectful. Giving herself another greedy moment of letting his fingers rub against her deliciously, she captures his face in her hands and kisses him hard.

Michael grunts into her mouth, surprised, withdrawing his fingers with a wet sound and Mallory gasps aloud at the rush of fluid that exits her body. She feels oversensitive to the air without the protective cupping of his hand around her mound and she shudders.

Mallory’s sure she’s nearly ruined his shirt now between the blood and her own tugging hands, but she wrestles him out of it, uncharacteristically impatient and trying to ask breathlessly in between,

‘Do you want to… inside?’ She articulates hopelessly.

Michael swallows and nods heavily. Helping her fight the rest of his clothes off and feeling his way around her body in the dark. One thumb catches a nipple and he strokes it teasingly but she’s frantic, desperate for the length of him inside to soothe everything her body is telling her it needs so badly.

But the minute he puts the head of his cock to her he slips hopelessly in the fluid and they both laugh.

‘Wow, fuck. Sorry.’ He says sheepishly as he slips again and Mallory yelps as it slides over her clit.

‘Here, let me just…’ She says, taking his cock in hand and guiding it in.

It’s not as much of a stretch as usual, probably because of the excessive amount of lubrication her blood is providing, but it’s exactly what she needed, feeling her tender muscles bearing down on him like putting pressure on a wound.

‘God, you’re so… so wet.’ He murmurs into her neck, taking his time to rock gently back and forth. It feels so calming on her laboured muscles that Mallory isn’t even thinking about the possibility of coming again, just letting his warmth soothe her from the inside out. ‘Mallie…’

‘You like it?’ Mallory asks coyly around a smile in the dark he doesn’t see.

‘We should do this more often.’ He gasps, starting to thrust a little more seriously. It makes her laugh out loud, hard enough that he has to stop and laugh with her.

‘We do this plenty!’ She defends. Even in the dark she can see he hides his face in embarrassment in the pillow.

‘You know what I mean, we’ve never fucked before on your period.’ The honesty of his words throws her right back into the moment and Mallory swallows down the reflexive _grossness_ that word brings into the moment. But as quickly as that knee-jerk horror comes, it’s replaced by the placation that started all this.

_It’s just blood._

Lord knows between the two of them they’ve seen enough of it.

Michael’s thrusts have her twitching again, unsure what to do with her hands except hold onto his shoulders as he works within her. Mallory doesn’t think she’s capable of coming again, too sweetly mollified by the good pressure inside her, untwisting all her cramped muscles and only half-heartedly lifting her hips to help. More interested in lying back and feeling taken care of, she’s dazed and drunk on the sluggish pleasure until Michael grasps her calf, shifts her leg up and back and changes the angle of his cock inside her until it’s hitting that one spot that makes her jump.

‘Oh!’ She squeaks a little too loudly for their room. He shifts on his elbows until he can place a hand teasingly over her mouth.

‘Shh!’ He huffs. His breath is coming shorter and she knows that he is not far off. She nips his fingers in response and he tightens his grip. ‘Be a good girl, Mallory.’

She narrows her eyes up at him in the dark and whines a little as he continues his consistent rocking in her. Mallory can see the beginning of stars in her vision and she knows she’s close. She just needs a little more pressure but his hands are occupied now, one holding him up and the other cupped against her face to muffle her moans.

Slowly, Mallory takes her own hand down, hesitant to bloody it but wanting that last push over the edge. She pulls back the hood and finds her clit and arches up when she makes contact, brushing the sides of her fingers against his cock as he enters her.

Michael catches her and smiles wolfishly and she sees the white shine of his teeth and then she’s gone, pulsing hard around him. Her legs twitch uncontrollably over his hips as her muscles shake with pleasure and she is completely taken away for a moment.

When she blinks away the black spots, Michael is reduced to half-thrusts as he nears his own completion. Mallory shifts her hands and grips his lower back, marvelling at the shifting of his muscles and listening to his harsh breathing.

‘You gonna come for me, Michael?’ She hears him swallow roughly, and she digs her nails in gently, pressing a hot kiss to his jawline. ‘Are you going to come inside me? While I’m bleeding?’ She’s torturing him now, she can feel the way he holds himself back, slowing down and holding himself on the edge.

‘If… if you want?’ The poor boy is so confused.

‘Of course.’ Mallory hushes him, sinking her nails in deeper and letting Michael thrust a final few times until he buries himself in her and groans out his last.

After he catches his breath, Mallory mourns the loss of him as he pulls away and sits back. The bed must be soaked at this point but Mallory doesn’t feel any more discomfort than she already has when she realises what a mess her lower half must be. Michael steps away from the bed and she follows his movements with half-lidded eyes, trusting his actions as he goes to the bathroom to get a washcloth and a towel.

She’s back to being his doll as he arranges her limbs and moves her gently around to clean her and tuck the towel beneath and between her and the second set of ruined sheets in two nights. Mallory smiles at him in the dark when he tells her softly what he’s doing.

‘Roll over for me, Mallie... I’m just gonna clean you up... That’s my girl.’

When he’s finished and ready to climb back into bed, he seems possessed by an unusual anxiety that has him hovering, eyes captivated by the movement of the trees outside the window.

‘What’s wrong?’ Mallory asks, eyes tracking up his pale form as he stands naked by the edge of the bed, unable to look at her.

With a heavy sigh Michael takes her extended hand and lets her pull him down into her soft bed. He doesn’t release her hand, instead pressing a gentle kiss against her knuckles and leaving it there, his soft breath rushing over her knuckles.

‘It’s been hard.’ He admits in the safety of the darkness. ‘Being here.’

‘Since our time away?’ Mallory says, carefully choosing her words, unable to describe what happened exactly, if it was another dimension, timeline, dream.

‘Yes.’

‘Do you resent me, for what I did?’ Mallory asks genuinely, unafraid of an honest answer. She’s surprised when he laughs.

‘Of course not. Though I could ask you the same thing.’ He says, letting his laughter trail off, the gravity of his question transforming his face.

Mallory doesn’t take this lightly, and remains silent for a long moment. Not hesitating, but assessing her own feelings fully. Taking into consideration the pain and misery his actions caused, the way she had to watch the world she knew perish, the people she loved long gone. Sometimes even now she finds it hard to speak to Misty, knowing what she looked like when she died from the tumours that ravaged her body. All the while still suffering the vertigo of lost time, déjà vu and not quite false memories. Knowing that the white-faced demon still lingered somewhere in Michael. Accepting all of this and carrying on with her day.

‘I don’t resent you.’ Mallory says. ‘But it’s… it’s hard for me too. To cope with what we know, what we saw, to understand why you did it.’

Michael lowers his head in shame and Mallory takes her hand still pressed to his face and tucks it under his chin, lifting until he meets her eyes again.

‘But you can tell me, to help me understand. I think that would help both of us.’

'I'm scared of what you'll think of me.' 

Mallory smiled and kissed him sweetly.

'You don't scare me anymore.'

‘I never told you that I'm grateful.' He says. 'You saved me, Mallie, you saved all of us.’

Mallory lets him pull her close and she winds her hands in his hair, letting her tight grip ground him.

‘You came with me. We fixed it together. And we’re going to be _fine_.’ She whispers and infuses the words with some of her calming magic, letting it soothe the pain in his soul.

There’s a wall that comes down between them that night. And for the next week they talk at night at length about it, how it was and how it could have been. Sharing the tremendous, overwhelming distress and relief of being here and alive and well.

Mallory’s blood goes as naturally as it came, more ruinous of her clothes and bedding than unusual, but she feels more clean than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** do these idiots have magic birth control? Is Mallory just really irresponsible and free bleeds? WHO KNOWS. READERS INTERPRETATION (i.e. author was too lazy to care).  
******   
** also this isn't the end of my Sunspots AU! no idea what's coming next! who knows with my writing ethic! endless surprises!  
**  
** anyway, pls let me know if u liked this a lil or leave me a kudos to save my soul **********


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